


a drink for the monsters under our beds

by heroinchic



Category: Trainspotting (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Mentions of Panic Attacks, mentions of trauma, we are going to do something called PROGRESS simon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:53:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24749419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heroinchic/pseuds/heroinchic
Summary: Set in today's nightmare of a world.Simon is having constant delusional nightmares and Mark's convinces him to try therapy for the first time in twenty something years.
Relationships: Mark "Rent Boy" Renton/Simon "Sick Boy" Williamson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	a drink for the monsters under our beds

-No, it was a no yesterday, and the day before yesterday and it’s a big no today. Move the fuck on yer annoying the shite out of me- Simon said without taking his look out of the laptop screen to Mark who was standing in front of him, looking like an indignant mother.

-Simon, it’s for your own fucking sake, and my own sake too. Just so we can sleep better, so you can finally have some headspace an…

-Isn’t that the name of that fucking app you and Spud are using to be all zen and hippie and shite?

-Yes, it is but that’s not what I meant! And by far it has worked for Spud and for me! We don’t wake up screaming and crying in the middle of every fucking night like you, it’s not healthy, its not normal and you know it.

-Ye are such a whiny bitch Mark, yes i’ve been having nightmares so? everyone has them. it’s completely fucking normal and if yer are incredible miserable sleeping with me why don’t you sleep in the couch huh?

-I don’t…

-I don’t like sleeping alone anymore-Simon finished the sentence, mocking Mark’s voice.

The last one let out a tired sigh of resignation and let himself fall into the couch, turning the tv on. Simon still not looking at him, he knew that if he looked at Mark’s tired and sad eyes that would completely melt him and convince them into going to therapy. Therapy. For Simon David Williamson, fucking therapy.

And he wasn’t stupid, he knew it wasn’t a terrible macabre idea full of bad intentions, actually it was probably the most healthy thing Mark had suggested him besides the ‘’don’t snore lines before breakfast Simon for fuck’s sake at least wait till its noon, eat your fucking omelet’’

He knew that he had gone through a high fee of trauma in his life, trauma that needed some kind of attention, trauma that wasn’t going to heal by itself or with coke or alcohol or a hit or sex, trauma that even Mark’s company couldn’t erase, he could sooth it, make it feel most bearable. But nonetheless it made his way back to him in any form, at first it was insomnia, lately had been migraines and terrible vivid nightmares.

He would wake up crying or screaming, covering in sweat, the first time it had happened Mark screamed too, without knowing what the fuck was going on, which send Simon into a panic attack that Mark tried to calm down unsuccessfully for half an hour.

This has been occurring for a month now, Mark was prepared for it every night, they both were exhausted. The only thing he could do was just held him in his arms and talk, the most tender he could be, while Simon controlled his breath and his sobs.

A few days ago, Spud had taught him some breathing techniques to soothe the anxiety and the panic attacks. If someone would have asked him ‘’what do you think you and your friends are going to be doing when you all are grown and old?’’ Simon could think of many things, but never would have thought that Rent Boy and Spud, from all of people, would be talking to him about meditation and breathing and who knows what the fuck else.

-It’s important for ye Simon- Spud was sitting next to him the other day he went to visit them, showing him the so called headspace app on his phone- And it’s very simple, the app has all sorts of guides and you can select whatever is that you need to improve in…

-Yer talking like a sponsored advertising Spud what the fuck is wrong with you? Are they paying ye to convince me to download this shite?

-He’s just trying to be nice don’t be a cunt about it!- Mark spoke, he had his head between his hands and was lying on the ground like a bored child, trying to soothe the headache caused for the lack of sleep. Simon felt a sting of remorse in his stomach and now Spud looked like a kid who was scolded.

-I’m sorry, im sorry Spud, what were you saying? - he asked, sincerely. And Spud went on talking about the correct posture for breathing and who knows what else, Simon didn’t payed much attention, but he learned a thing or two.

-And its not a hippie app, ye don’t have to burn sage or do yoga for this to work, its just for keeping the bad, bad thoughts at bay you know?- Spud said before leaving their flat.

The nightmares kept going, and finally Mark said ‘’therapy, i will make you an appointment, i will pay for it, but please’’ the words he was so afraid of, not because he was scared of going, he went plenty times when he was younger, didn’t do much on him to be honest. But he was scared of seeing himself turning into the middle age man who needed to go see a person with a degree in psychology to talk about horrible and not so horrible things for a whole hour and having to pay for it.

Simon closed the laptop after getting tired of reading the numerous articles about ‘’why do i have nightmares every night?’’ and ‘’why adults have nightmares?’’ going through ‘’unresolved trauma affecting your adult life and how to address it’’ which finally send him to ‘’how to keep your relationship stable while going through a mental health crises’’ that last one got him anxious because it got testimonies about people whom have going through a divorce or a break up due to their unstable mental and emotional health.

He looked up to see Mark’s frame against the light of the tv and thought how easily he could get tired of Simon’s cries in the middle of the night and how one day he’ll just pack his things and go with a person who had ‘’addressed his trauma with a professional following an adequate treatment’’ like the article said, someone who didn’t snore lines before breakfast, someone who used the hippie app on a daily basis.

They weren’t married, they never clarified what they were, Diane once told them that they acted more like a married couple that their own parents. ‘’A married couple that actually love each other, i don’t see that very often’’ Mark had laughed nervously at the comment, Simon didn’t find out the funny on it, why the fact that they looked in love was something to laugh at? Like if it couldn’t be possible that he could make Mark happy in that way or in every way for the matter.

That sense of unease grew stronger because Mark did slept on the couch that night.

-Just to be clear, im not doing it for yer nightmares, i’m doing it because ye are being more stubborn than usual and i hate when ye get like that- he told him while he dragged his pillow and a blanket in direction to the living room.

-It’s not like a session it’s going to miraculously cure me Mark, yer overreacting, just come back to bed please- Simon hated the way that sounded, like a plead that Mark deliberately ignored.

The night went as usual, his dreams were a blur full of images of despair and decay playing fast and merciless in his head like a low quality movie, he heard sobs and whispers and an Lou Reed song going louder and louder until the sound became unbearable as he walked through a football field that was full of corpses, he saw Mark jumping from a bridge just when the train was coming below him, Simon running to the border to find Mark standing beside the tracks, laughing at him and walking away until he was just a tiny figure disappearing against the border of the mountains, ignoring Simon’s pleads for him to come back. Spud relapsing again, this time not coming back to them never. Begbie making his way out of prison again to kill them. More cries and screams, the people screaming had no skin and no hair and were asking things to him while he walked in an endless hallway towards Mother’s Superior. Hands without skin coming from a hole in the ground dragging him into that pit full of horrible faces distorted with terror, faces he recognized. His father hitting his mother on the kitchen, blood everywhere while she cried. The fading cries of a baby in his now empty house, totally empty, no furniture, no food, no Mark, nowhere to be seen, he had left again and took everything with him. Needles inserted in every part of his body, injecting the so-called relief that now burned like lava and it was pure torture, his own screams making his ears bleed.

It felt like purgatory, it felt so real. Then he woke up.

He reached for Marks hand immediately, it was almost a reflex now, in the middle of the panic he didn’t remembered that Mark was sleeping in the living room. He heard footsteps rushing to his bedroom, the anxiety made him believe that someone was there to kill him, someone from his dreams had make his way into reality and was there to end it all for once. He went through the drawer next to the bed, grabbing an old pocketknife with trembling hands, cursing himself from not be able to stop the tears or the nervous muttering.

Mark turned the lights on, he found Simon standing beside the other side of the bed, eyes wide open full of panic and a rusted pocketknife pointed at him.

-Simon what the fuck are ye doing? - Mark was scared and like glued to the floor, this was a whole other level of reaction coming from Simon.

-I… thought that the people with no skin had made his way out of the hole and were now here and that ye had left or that they had took ye and i didn’t know what to do they could be here they are everywhere Mark they don’t leave me alone-the words came out of his mouth quick and almost undecipherable, his eyes were glassy and his whole body was covered in sweat.

-it’s not real, none of that is real, you are here, i’m here, it’s only us here- Mark had made his way slowly towards Simon, getting the little knife out of his hands and putting it away carefully. Simon was in a trance, still muttering to himself things that Mark couldn’t understand. He seemed so fragile, nothing of that endless energy and chaos and cocky smile that he always carried with him, he looked like a scared and weak old man with dementia. And that was the breaking point.

Simon was sitting in the waiting room of a therapist that Diane had recommended them. The fact that Mark had to call Diane for a recommendation filled him with shame.

After he came out of the shock, Mark had told him everything; the pocketknife, the muttering nonsenses, but Simon didn’t remember doing any of those things.

He couldn’t argue anymore against Mark after seeing him so scared.

He would go to see a therapist, a psychiatrist, a priest, a witch, anything would do. For the first time in his life, drugs weren’t the easiest answer anymore, because the coke just made him extra paranoid, the skagg made him sleep and sleep wasn’t safe anymore, any kind of drug, legal or not, that made him sleepy would scare him because now he hated sleeping. He hated it with his whole being.

The receptionist gave him a formulary and he filled all the blank spaces quickly but got stuck at _What is your marital status:_

**Single**

**Married**

**Widowed**

**Divorced**

**Living in consensual union**

He felt like **single** wasn’t the correct one anymore, that **married** would be too much and that **living in consensual union** sounded like if he was just sharing a flat with a boyfriend, or a best friend, which he was, but there was more sharing in between.

-Would you consider me as yer partner? - Simon called Mark on the phone.

-I consider ye as a pain in the ass- Mark answered, his light-hearted tone making him laugh.

-Nice. But a pain in the ass that ye would consider a partner? -Simon tried to sound casual and carefree but inside he feared that he will felt cornered by his words.

-This is the strangest marriage proposal of all times Simon you really are a romantic-Mark’s laugh at the other line make him chuckle too, it was weird how in just two minutes into a conversation with him he felt like a weight being lifted from his shoulders, like a break from the whole world.

-Yes i am a romantic, the fact that ye still living with me proves it, but answer my question, it’s for this formulary that they are making me fill.

-Well, i live with you since four years ago, we do everything together, we go to weddings together, we visit your family once a month, we visit my father every two weeks, we share the same friends, we share the same bed, if a week passes and we don't have sex you get moody like an hormonal teenager, we have breakfast and dinner together, we argue every time I don’t wash the dishes…

Simon was smiling, feeling warm and loved, Mark kept listing the things that made them a couple, almost a marriage just without the papers, how Diane had told them. And who needed the papers anyway.

-….and we redecorate the house together, we still do some illegal stuff together and that’s quite the bond we share there, if i don’t say that i love you before going to work you would ask me if somethings wrong, we spend almost two months locked inside the house for the fucking quarantine and we didn’t kill each other! so, that’s a good marriage- Mark finished, the last few words almost a whisper because he realized how of a big deal that could be to Simon and he didn’t wanted to make him feel pressured, specially not now, not in his mental state.

-Ow honey, that’s so sweet. Don’t forget to pick up the kids from their football practice in your mom mini-van and to bought them gluten free food- Simon said, unable to stop smiling, marking ‘’married’’ in the formulary. Mark’s laugh in the other side was strident, they wouldn’t have any kids but often joked about it. Spud got them a hamster for Christmas and a month later the ‘’little stupid mouse’’ as Simon called him, was dead. That was enough of living beings being handed to them.

-That answered yer question?

-Yes Mark, yer a great best-friend who i live with in consensual union.

-Consensual union sounds so fucking weird. It’s like i kidnapped you and you decided to stay with me forever- Mark scoffed.

-I was thinking the same. It sounds better to say that you are a great husband.

There was a moment of silence and Simon wondered if he had crossed a line, maybe Mark’s was only joking and he got up too much on his feelings. He heard the receptionist calling his name.

-I gotta go, they are calling me now- Simon said while handing the papers to the man in reception.

-Im proud of you Si. And you are a great husband too- he said in a tender tone before ending the call.

Simon was radiant just for one phone call, he looked like shite for the lack of proper sleep, but he felt content because he had someone who was taking care of him. He couldn’t remember any time in his life where he had felt that way. He used to be the one to say ‘’leave me alone to do it, leave me alone to fix it, leave me alone to die’’ but Mark hadn’t accepted that. Maybe when they were young he would have left him in the blink of an eye, but they weren’t those kids anymore.

His therapist was an english woman named Carolyn and wasn't a boring conventional one, pointing fingers at him about how he didn’t have a normal moral compass, despite herself being in her early sixties and being the face of a conventional family with a conventional life style, with a ''normal'' moral compass. But she even laughed at Simon’s dark jokes, she payed attention to his theories and she reminded the names of everyone he mentioned without having to look at her notes.

After three weeks there wasn’t much progress, the nightmares weren’t as twisted as before but he kept waking up in sobs, scared of every shadow he saw in the room. By the fourth week he would wake up but without crying or screaming and the fear quickly left his body as he inhaled and exhaled.

Three months after he could go through a whole night without any bad dreams, no more panic attacks, no more pointing at Mark with a pocketknife. He was more tender with him too, more attentive, less rude towards the people who loved him. Spud noticed right away, when he was talking about a new book tour that he was going to make and Simon was actually paying attention to him

But his main personality was untouchable, he was a dick, yes, but a more happy one, a more open-minded one, less defensive at talking about his feelings. He didn’t evade Diane’s invitation to have dinner all together, he said ‘’love you’’ to Mark more often, which caught both of them by surprise.

-He was married before and I think that somehow he expects the PDA or the words or the attentions that his ex-wife gave him, but it’s not exactly my thing, specially the pda- he said to Carolyn.

-Have you tried?

-The pda? With Mark? No, never.

-So how do you know that its not your thing?

-Because I never was affectionate with any woman, only if I knew that I was going to fuck them later and usually that happened in clubs, crowded, drunk, high, it didn’t matter, it didn’t have any value, it was purely selfish.

-Exactly, you didn’t love them. You love Mark so some sweet nickname or holding his hand in the streets isn’t going to make your balls drop off Williamson- Carolyn said, with the same bluntly tone he used when he tried not to push Simon too much.

-Fucking right about that Doc, maybe i would give it a try.

It took him two whole weeks to call Mark ‘’baby’’ it came out naturally, in the middle of a talk they were having walking to the pub. Mark looked at him in awe, they never called each other by nicknames, besides Rent Boy and Sick Boy, but those werent couple-like nicknames, Mark didn’t used them because it knew that wasn’t Simon style but he had wanted to do it for so long.

-Sorry i didn’t hear ya, what was the last thing you say?- Mark teased him

-Don’t push it Mark.

-Its okay baby. Whenever you are ready honey, love, light of my life, my sweet ,sweet...-Mark was trying to not burst into laughing, not wanting to seem like he was laughing at him, which he was in some way, but not in a cruel one.

-DON’T push it, stop that right now- Simon said, trying to hide his smile.

-‘M sorry, but say it again. Not now if u don’t want to, but soon. It was nice.

-I will baby- Simon said, intertwining his fingers together. PDA checked, holding hands had to count right? New nickname to address him besides ‘’cunt’’ ‘’son of a bitch’’ ‘’asshole’’ and ‘’Rent Boy’’ checked.

Five months after, when he had another nightmare for the first time in months, he felt a wave of panic coming through him, they were back again, what if they were back to stay and drive him totally crazy? Nice things didn’t last long in his life. But he realized that he was overreacting, bad dreams and awful thoughts would come occasionally, not only for him but for everyone. It wasn’t something that had to ruin his life.

He thought about everything that he had lived through, the horrors that he had seen, the monsters that he had been, the apathy, the cruelty. But he had lived through it, he had survived and transformed himself into someone better, someone who knew that he deserved to be loved despite all the awful things that he would always carry in his dreams.

-You okay? - Mark muttered half asleep, Simon hadn’t scream or cry this time, he had just woke up suddenly with heavy breaths.

-I’m okay- he answered, laying down again and putting his arms around Renton

He looked at Mark and thought about how it was highly likely that they would spend the rest of their time on this hell of an earth together. And that was enough to soothe him.

Mark’s very existence was effective to keep the bad, bad thoughts away. And well, fuck it, therapy and that app kinda helped too.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! kudos and comments are appreciated. luv for everyone x :)


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